


The Maker

by redlizard_rambles



Series: Anthology of Thedas [9]
Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-29
Updated: 2019-11-29
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:07:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21608806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redlizard_rambles/pseuds/redlizard_rambles
Summary: A little one-shot of my theory on who the Maker is.
Series: Anthology of Thedas [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1620829
Kudos: 3





	The Maker

The sound was sweet and longing. A heart unheard by those surrounding it. But He woke. He heard the song and was drawn to it.

He was curious and he pushed through the Void, His body no longer there; stolen by the Dread Wolf, desperate to see the creature that had been able to reach Him from so far away. He found her in the Fade, a Dreamer. A shemlen Dreamer at that.

She gasped, the song dying on her lips, her eyes widening at the entity before her. 

“Are you a demon?” her voice waiver. 

He scoffed to himself. Hardly. As if He would associate with such pathetic beings. Besides, they were the Evanuris’s fault. He was already banished before demons came to exist. 

But He had to choose his words carefully as to not scare the potential key to His freedom. 

“I once ruled your world, but blasphemers ruined it and now I cannot return till my word is spread. What is your name, gentle one?”

“Andraste,” she stammered in awe. 

“Andraste,” He repeated. “Your voice woke me from my slumber. I have chosen you to learn all I have to offer.”

What was left of this being enveloped the young mage, who shook with anticipation. 

“Let me teach you…” He whispered. 

\---

“Wait, wait,” Geldauran gasped between fits of laughter. “This dreamer, Andraste? She thinks you are a god?”

“She thinks I am THE god. As in one. No more. Seems to have no clue of our history! And she’s an Alamarri! Their gods are actually still free on the other side.”

“That’s priceless,” snickered Daern’thal. “So what now?”

“Now I possess her. She’s surprisingly strong willed, and a quick learner too. I think I can have her open the Veil and set us free.”

Geldauran and Daern’thal nodded to each other excitedly. Anaris only shook his head in disbelief. 

“You think I cannot do it?” He questioned. 

Anaris was always shooting down the other three’s ideas and wasn’t well trusted. He may have even helped Fen’Harel, not expecting to be betrayed in the end; trapped with the rest. 

“If she is so strong willed, what makes you think you can bend her to our will?”

He snorted, “She has ideas of her own, sure, but she’s starting to teach ‘The Chant’. I grow stronger by the day.”

“The Chant?” Geldauran asked. 

“Yes! She thinks has been taking what I tell her and passing it to others in the form of ‘The Chant’. I told her I cannot return till it has been spread to the four corners of the world. I can feel them clamoring for my voice to reach them too.”

Daern’thal chortled, “It’s like you’ve made your very own cult.”

He joined it, “It is! A maker of a whole new world...The Maker…” he mused. 

\---

“Spirit,” Andraste started. “What will you do once the Chant is sung? How will you return to us?”

“I will need a human host to bring my back. Someone to hold me and keep me safe.”

Andraste sighed wistfully, “It sounds like a marriage…”

He rolled His figurative eyes. Andraste often spoke of her loveless marriage to “Marefeth”. How once they were in love but lately he had become bitter and cold towards her. 

“It does. Would you…?” He intentionally trailed off. 

“Yes?” Andraste said after a beat when He didn’t continue. 

“Would you, Andraste, be my bride?” He was excited now. This was too easy. 

“Your bride? But I don’t even know your name.”

“You have proven your complete faith and devotion in me. I am The Maker.”

\---

He felt when the sword slid into her and her life faded away and cursed to Himself. 

So be it. And just when it was getting good. 

The freeing of the slaves was all her, but it had been fun feeding her whatever He wanted about the “Old Gods.” The Maker, for that was the only name He knew now, wasn’t sure what they were, possibly a last ditch effort of the Evanuris to escape their prison. Solas really did a number on everyone. What a prick. 

He sighed, His existence filling the space of the Void He called His own. He had a feeling this wasn’t the end though, the Chant was still being sung and if He was patient, He was sure someone as strong or stranger than Andraste would be all too happy to see Him freed.


End file.
